Not Quite Invincible
by Voyagerfictionfan
Summary: When the Captain is injured during an ion storm, Chakotay heads to Sickbay to find her.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager &amp; its characters belong to Paramount, only the headache is mine :-)

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**Not Quite Invincible**

Chapter One

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He was approximately three-quarters through what could thus far be best described as an uneventful Alpha shift and currently in command of the USS Voyager and Crew in place of her Captain, Chakotay found himself fervently hoping that things would stay that way. In the five years that he had served as her First Officer, he had learnt to accept that the Captain would regularly lead away teams and while Tuvok had assessed this excursion as relatively low risk, he had also come to accept that _he_ would not feel quite at ease until she and those with her were safely back on board. She had an uncanny knack for running into trouble he felt, whether this was solely a Delta Quadrant phenomenon remained to be seen, but he had evidence enough since their journey had begun to justify feeling slightly on edge.

Standing from the chair to stretch his long legs, he kept his hands clasped lightly behind his back as he took a few paces forward and then, careful to maintain his feigned nonchalance, briefly allowed his gaze to dip over to her empty chair. A movement from the Helm caught his attention and as his eyes flicked across the Bridge, he suspected that the Ensign currently in the pilot's seat felt a little ill at ease, understandably so perhaps, given that Tom Paris' were big shoes to fill. Their chief Helmsman had accompanied the Captain on the trade mission to D'araa II, an M class planet in an adjacent star system along with Mike Ayala and a few of the junior Engineering Crew. Their objective was a fairly straightforward one and while they were hoping to procure some much needed Dilithium, B'Elanna had opted to remain onboard Voyager and take the opportunity to finish supervising some modifications to the Transporter systems.

His stiff muscles slightly eased, Chakotay returned to his chair and, wondering to how the repairs were progressing, sent their Chief Engineer a quick message to that effect. Next, he turned his attention to finding a way to pass the remaining time until they reached the pre-arranged rendezvous coordinates and taking out the latest duty roster PADD, started to work on the following month's shift allocation.

_Hell, he might even give Paris an easy week of his preferred Beta shifts if he got them all back on time._

Checking a small smile at this thought, he considered arranging his and the Captain's Holodeck hours so that they coincided the following day. He was planning to invite Kathryn to try a new sailing program that he was running, it would do her good to relax for a few hours he mused. He had designed and built the small boat himself, woodwork being a recently resurrected hobby. She was just about watertight and ready for a test and if he was fortunate, he might have enough rations to replicate a picnic lunch for them to share.

"We have an incoming message from the shuttle Commander."

Behind him, from Ops, Harry Kim's eager voice broke his pleasant train of thought and instantly Chakotay felt his sense of unease return. He'd had a strange feeling about this mission from the instant the Delta Flyer had departed and this unexpected communication only served to reminded him of that fact. Taking a gentle breath, he reasoned that it was only an hour or so before they were expected and that the shuttle just might be returning ahead of schedule if negotiations had finished promptly.

"On screen, Mr Kim."

"It's audio only Commander."

In spite of himself, Chakotay now sighed aloud. There was a sudden, sharp crackle of static and the sound of an apparently distant, but familiar voice filled the Bridge.

"Delta Fly...Voyager...receiving?"

He turned to glance at Harry over his shoulder. "What's the problem Mr Kim? Can you clear up the transmission?"

Harry was rapidly tapping into his console, his young face perplexed. He shook his head earnestly.

"I'm sorry Commander, the problem is with the Flyer's transceiver. The signal strength is very low; it looks like their communications array has taken some damage. I'm boosting it to maximum this end, but that's all I can do."

Chakotay nodded, raising his voice a notch. "Voyager to the Delta Flyer. Mr Paris we weren't expecting you just yet, is everything in order?"

As he awaited a response, the ensuing pause resulted in an unpleasant churning sensation in the pit of Chakotay's stomach. He'd always known that his ancestors had a certain amount of second sight, but thought that the trait had skipped his generation. Now, however, he knew only too well that he was about to hear something that he wouldn't like. The audio line crackled again and then Tom's voice filled the air.

"...cconcluded negotiations early, but got caught... severe ion storm...heavy damage. Emergency containment fields... holding...but stuck at impulse...critical systems... ...Rendezvous...ahead of schedule; you'll need to alert the Doctor...multiple casualties."

"All received Lieutenant, a medical team will meet you in Shuttlebay two."

"Understood... Paris ou..."

He stood and walked smartly across to the Helm. "Ensign increase our speed to Warp eight and plot a direct intercept course with the shuttle. Mr Kim, contact Sickbay and alert The Doctor."

"Aye Sir"

Chakotay rubbed his hand across his chin and tried once again to look more relaxed than he felt. Typical, he thought, Tuvok's analysis of their mission didn't include a weather report and no doubt the Vulcan was already chastising himself for that oversight. He'd have to try and remember to remind their Security Chief that it wasn't possible to predict forces of nature at the next briefing of the Senior Staff. Back at Command, his foot tapped impatiently as he waited for the Delta Flyer to appear on the main viewer. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long and as the craft came into visual range he found himself leaning forward.

"On screen. Increase magnification Ensign."

He knew his tone was sharper than usual and hinted at the tension all the Bridge Officers were feeling. What he saw caused his heart to thump with an unpleasant force in his chest. The Delta Flyer looked like she had taken something of a pounding. Even from a distance, he could see that the ion storm had buckled their hull in places, panels and plating had been torn off by sheer force and gas was venting heavily from their Starboard Nacelle. He forced himself to sit back in his chair as the Shuttle came into close view and Harry gave the all clear for docking.

"Chakotay to the Doctor. The Flyer is about the dock, what's your status?"

"I'm in Shuttlebay two Commander, _as requested_."

Somehow, the EMH managed to sound more piqued than usual. "I'll update you regarding casualties in due course. EMH _out_."

Slowly, Chakotay forced himself to ease his grip on the arms of the dark command chair and tried to relax his frown. Now came the waiting game. He had to judge how long to remain on the Bridge and maintain the appropriate professional distance. This wasn't one of his strengths in situations like this, especially where Kathryn was concerned and he was all too aware of the fact. His immediate desire to vault over the railings and head to the Turbolift suppressed, he concentrated on the console in front of him where the initial damage report from the Shuttlebay engineers would shortly be uploaded.

Time seemed to slow to standstill on the silent Bridge as they all waited. Eventually, it was Tuvok's calm, monotone voice that broke the tense silence.

"Commander, if I may make a suggestion?"

Taken by surprise at this unexpected deviation from protocol, he turned his gaze towards Tactical. "Mr Tuvok?"

"As the Senior Officer in command at this time, I believe that it falls to you to personally de-brief the away team. There were several key components that they were due to acquire while on D'araa II and it would be prudent to establish if negotiations were successful."

Chakotay turned his torso further and analysed Tuvok's seemingly impassive face carefully. Was he saying what Chakotay thought he was? Surely not, but as he continued to analyse, trying to decide how to reply, he thought he saw Tuvok's left eyebrow arch almost imperceptibly. In that second, no small understanding passed between the two men and with permission apparently given; and almost before he realised what was happening, Chakotay found his feet propelling him from his chair.

"Very well. Mr Tuvok you have the Bridge," he said as evenly as he could, and strode what he hoped was purposefully, but without undue haste, towards the turbolift. Silently thanking Tuvok and feeling all eyes watching his departure, he stepped inside.

"Deck five."

Finding himself alone, the hiss of the door closing gave him the privacy to exhale deeply. He rested one hand on the inside of the capsule, placing his palm flat against the smooth, cool interior and briefly closed his eyes.

"Please be safe" he breathed.

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In the instant before the doors to Sickbay slid open, Chakotay braced himself for the Doctor's barrage of sarcastic comments. The last time the Captain had been injured, he'd heard a disconcerting rumour that the EMH had won holodeck rations from Tom Paris after correctly wagering how long it would take him to arrive. Mildly irritated at being so predictable, but reluctantly resigned to the fact, he was aware that today it was the price of admission as he crossed the threshold and paused to survey the scene before him.

Three of the Flyer's five crew were on biobeds and he recognised Mike Ayala who looked to have a nasty leg injury that the Doctor was busy treating. A steady river of blood was running down his limb, along the side of the bed and dripping silently onto the floor. Momentarily, he watched with fascination as the dripping slowed and then stopped with the Doctor's interventions. To Chakotay's relatively untrained eye, none of the injured appeared critical, but the atmosphere in the room was purposeful and it looked as if none of the shuttle crew had escaped without injury of some sort. They were clearly fortunate to have the Delta Flyer back in one piece.

This analysis of the situation was interrupted by the appearance of Tom Paris, his red tunic branded by a large, horizontal scorch mark across the chest and sporting a bruise on his cheek and a cut above his eyebrow. He hurried from the far side of the room, a hypospray in each hand and headed towards one of the Crewmen, his unusually bedraggled appearance evidence of the rough ride back to Voyager. Chakotay approached the Doctor with just a hint of caution in his steps.

"Ah Commander..." the EMH said without turning around. "If you're looking for the Captain, I'm afraid you've just missed her."

_Missed her?_

Before he had chance to verbalise this thought, Chakotay looked blankly at the Doctor's back for a second and then allowed his gaze to sweep around the room again, before it dawned on him that the Captain was absent.

"As fast as you got here," the EMH continued with a heavy undertone of sarcasm lacing his words, "...And I must congratulate you on improving upon your previous time, it was not fast enough. The Captain discharged herself all of five minutes ago, against my express medical advice of course."

He spun quickly to face Chakotay, his scowling countenance and drawn eyebrows making his annoyance obvious.

"I really must protest Commander,_ She_ of all people should know that even the Captain has to submit to medical treatment when recommended by the Chief Medical Officer. It is a very poor example to set the Crew."

Chakotay felt his head nod forwards slightly and deliberately kept his voice low, "Doctor, can I ask why you didn't insist that she remain for treatment?"

"Because as skilled as a physician as I am" the Doctor snapped. "I am not a security officer and the Captain made it very clear what she would do to my program if I went against her wishes."

Chakotay frowned, having a little trouble imaging the scene the Doctor had just described. Although famous for her reluctance to visit Sickbay, to his knowledge Kathryn had never just upped and left before being treated and he wondered what had caused her to do so. Even she, usually respected the Doctor's expertise and submitted to his treatment when necessary. It was a strange scenario. Tom, who had moved towards him, broke this train of thought and gave Chakotay a forced half smile.

"The Doc's telling the truth Chakotay. The Captain did threaten to delete his program and to throw me in the Brig if we tried to stop her from leaving."

He sighed lightly before continuing and angled his back to the rest of the room.

"She was at Tactical when the storm struck and we all got thrown around pretty badly in the turbulence. She was knocked unconscious and I'm concerned that her behaviour just now was a little..." He paused, clearly slightly wary and struggling for the appropriate word so Chakotay decided to suggest one.

"Uncharacteristic?"

Appearing relieved, Tom nodded and lowered his voice.

"To be honest Chakotay, your timing couldn't be better. I was just about to call you over the Comm to go and find her. She's going to need medical treatment sooner rather than later for a nasty head injury and I've a feeling that you're the best one to persuade her of that. She seemed fine when we docked, but the minute we arrived in Sickbay, she went right back into Command mode and refused to listen. You know the Captain, she's hard to reason with when she's in that kind of mood."

Feeling a little like a co-conspirator, Chakotay attempted to keep his expression neutral. "Thanks Tom, you did an excellent job getting back. I'll go and..._discuss_ the matter with her. Can I rely on you for house call if necessary?"

Paris nodded. "Of course."

And with that he clasped Chakotay's arm briefly in and hurried over to a bed where the Doctor was waiting. As he left Sickbay still feeling slightly dazed, Chakotay heard the Doctor's voice floating into the corridor after him.

"When you have a minute Commander, you might want to remind the Captain that it is highly inappropriate for her to threaten to decompile me every time she doesn't agree with my medical opinion."

That's something he definitely wouldn't be mentioning Chakotay thought, not if he wanted to avoid ending up in the Brig himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Taking long strides back along the corridor, Chakotay tried to think where the Captain would most likely have gone. Given the turn events had taken, the logical place would be her Quarters, but something was telling him she wasn't there and he had known Kathryn Janeway long enough to trust his gut feeling. Stepping into the Turbolift, he asked for Deck One, hoping that against all odds his instinct was off this time.

"Computer, locate the Captain."

Captain Janeway is in her ready room.

Chakotay felt his mouth involuntarily contract into a small scowl. There was a smugness to the computer's tone that irritated him at times, and confirming exactly what he didn't want to hear, this was most definitely one of those times. He stepped out of the lift and onto the Bridge, irritated to be right back where he had started and feeling more than a little foolish. As he crossed the floor towards her ready room and passed the Command Chairs, Tuvok and the rest of the Senior Staff had the good sense to remain silent and continue studiously with whatever they were doing, although he thought he saw Harry's eyes widen with obvious relief. Their erstwhile Ensign had yet to fully master the Bridge poker face and pausing at the door, he wondered just what lie in wait for him.

He hit the chime and waited. In the intervening pause, he tried not to tap his foot on the floor, he knew the override code, but wanted her to let him in; anticipating that it might get their conversation off to a slightly better start. The door chimed again and still nothing. By now, he could feel all eyes on the Bridge watching and recalling Tom's concern and deciding that he had waited long enough, impatiently he punched in the override code and walked quickly through the now obliging door.

The very first thing he noticed was that the main lights were dimmed to a low, almost murky level and that the room seemed a great deal warmer than was comfortable. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that Kathryn was seated at her desk, a tall pile of PADDs stacked neatly at her left elbow. A not unusual sight in itself, but despite his sudden entrance, she neither moved nor spoke and as he approached, he noticed a recently replicated cup of coffee, it's steam curling upwards, sitting untouched beside her monitor - a sure sign that something was wrong. On closer inspection, her head was resting in her hands and once he reached her desk, he saw that her eyes were closed. Confronted by this rather unexpected scene and remembering her threats to decompile the EMH before she left Sickbay, he decided to play safe.

"Captain?"

She didn't reply and so he softened his voice and leant forward as he spoke again.

"Captain?"

_Kathryn lifted her head from her hands slightly at the sound of Chakotay's quiet, calm voice and squinted to bring his broad figure better into view. She had known it would be him. The force ten glare she had given the Bridge Officers en route had been more than enough to ensure that they would only disturb her on pain of death and only a handful of people knew the override code to her ready room. Even fewer would actually dare to use it, not while she was in this mood. No doubt he had been to Sickbay and the Doctor had informed him of their altercation and her swift departure._

_Her head hurt, and that was possibly the greatest of understatements. What had earlier felt like a relatively manageable throbbing had magnified one hundred fold and with her eyes open, it now felt as if her skull was physically splitting in two. When the ion storm had hit, Tom had reacted quickly, using all of his skill to ensure that they had managed to outrun the worst of it. They were almost in the clear when a sudden, powerful jolt had thrown her from her feet and slammed her head and shoulders against a bulkhead with a force that she'd rather not recollect._

_She could vaguely recall the bone shattering impact, but then blissfully, unconsciousness had called and her last memory was seeing the shuttle's ceiling fade to black while hearing Tom call her name. An undeterminable amount of time later, she had come around propped on her side, on the floor of the shuttle, with her head resting on Tom's folded tunic to find them limping back to Voyager at one quarter impulse, with only minimal life support. From his seat at the Helm, Tom had implored her to stay still, but she had insisted on helping maintain the Emergency Containment fields. With the shuttle barely intact, he couldn't spare the seconds to physically stop her and so had had no option but to watch with a concerned eye as she had managed to crawl back to her console._

_Her head didn't hurt that much, she had told him as she pulled herself onto her seat._

_A lie. Then, and most definitely now._

_The trouble with being in Command she reflected, was that almost no-one dared to challenge her decisions, especially the questionable ones. She didn't blame Tom, he had been practically holding the shuttle together single-handedly and being a good actress when the scenario demanded, she felt she had put on a decent performance._

_Now though, white hot needles of pain were slowly crawling up her spine and penetrating her brain. The light from the open door had forced her to close her eyes and once she had dared to open them again it was to find that things were beginning to blur in her peripheral vision. She was also starting to have trouble thinking, and if she moved too much more, she realised that she would be sick and that was not something she wanted Chakotay to see. To this end, she lifted her head gradually and tried to retain some semblance of normality in her voice as the waves of nausea built. This was difficult as there now appeared to be two of him first standing, and then crouching down beside her. From somewhere she registered his warm hand on her shoulder._

"Chakotay... What can I do for you?"

_They were all the words she could manage. Her voice shook a little, but it wasn't too bad considering how awful she felt._

_._

Chakotay made a rapid assessment of the situation before him as he moved slowly to crouch down beside her chair. Even in the heavily dimmed light, Kathryn looked pretty awful. Her face was an almost ghostly grey-white and there was a clammy sheen to her skin, despite the fact that she appeared to be continually shivering. A large purple bruise was rapidly forming above her right temple, accompanied by some swelling around her right eye. The minuscule movement of her head and the way she cradled it protectively with one hand; the other across the back of her neck, indicated to him that she was in a great deal of pain.

But before he had a chance to say anything in reply to her whispered question, she lifted her head slightly more and placed the hand that was supporting her neck over her mouth quickly. Her eyes widened and he knew what she was indicating. Swiftly, he stepped over to the replicator and snatching the receptacle as soon as it materialised, crossed the room in a single stride to place it on her lap. One hand now on her back and the other supporting the basin, he watched with concern as she started to heave.

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_Realising that she was actually going to be sick, Kathryn made a motion with her hand that she prayed Chakotay would understand, she really didn't want to be sick on her desk, but the pain in her head made further speech far too hard to contemplate. There was no hiding this from him, she thought grimly. He understood - as he always did, and as he supported her gently, she wondered just why she had chosen today to throw a tantrum unbecoming of a Starfleet Captain and discharge herself from Sickbay. She'd never liked the place it was true; at times the EMH's bedside manner bordered on the abrasive, but he was an exceptionally skilled Physician and she realised now that she had been unwise to ignore his advice. No doubt he would expressly remind her of that fact when she saw him next. The repetitive heaving made her head hurt even more, to the point where she felt herself willing the return of unconsciousness, but then it was over and she was grateful as the pain returned to its previously merely excruciating level._

_As Chakotay walked away from her to recycle the basin, she wiped her mouth gingerly on the sleeve of her tunic and tried to find anything she could focus on. The edges of her vision were now haloed with a pale grey shadow and as the room span, she held onto the desk tightly. A small slither of fear made its way into the back of her mind and she began to wonder if she might just be in real trouble. Dismissing it firmly, she tried for a deep breath. The inhalation caused the aroma of the coffee on her desk to reach her and immediately she fought the urge to vomit again. Attempting to turn away from the desk slightly, she felt a hand on her back and then a cool glass pressed against her free hand. Murmuring her thanks, she let him help her lift the water to her lips and took a sip gratefully. She would be fine, she told herself, he wouldn't leave until this was over._

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Chakotay set the glass of water down on Kathryn's desk and returned to his crouch just in front of her. She was leaning heavily on the flat surface, holding it tightly with one hand, while attempting to turn the rest of her body away and as he watched she swayed and her eyelids fluttered. Deciding that he had watched long enough, he carefully manoeuvred himself to be between her and the wall and slid an arm around her back, he didn't want her to fall from the chair, but he wasn't sure if his touch would be welcome. As if to answer his unspoken question, instantly she allowed her head to drop until it came to rest against his shoulder, one of her hands reaching tentatively for his. Grasping it firmly, he followed her cue.

"Let's get you over to the couch Kathryn."

She didn't reply, but allowed him to help her stand, support her unsteady gait and lead her over to the corner of the couch where he sat her down and propped her up as best he could. She leant her head back grimacing as she did so, keeping her eyes firmly closed. She didn't look especially comfortable, but he figured it was only temporary until he could get her back to Sickbay, which he felt should be an immediate priority.

"Paris to Chakotay."

Tom's voice sounded bright and Chakotay presumed he'd finished treating the wounded, himself included. "Chakotay here."

"Commander, Engineering has just informed me that Transporters are off line for the next thirty minutes, so I was wondering if you require that house call?"

Chakotay was touched by Tom's concern and tact. He reminded himself that despite his sometimes juvenile behaviour, Tom was an obvious choice for field medic given his ability to read such situations. He understood that Kathryn wouldn't want to walk (or worse be carried through) the corridors and risk being seen by members of the Crew. She had her pride and maintaining the image of the 'always in control' Captain was an important part of her persona. It wasn't always in her best interests he thought, but that was a topic for another time.

"Affirmative Tom, that would be great right about now."

He turned to Kathryn to gently broach the subject, but quickly saw that she was in no state to resist. Her cheeks were now flushed and her entire fame was trembling, one hand resting at her temple. He sat close and as he placed his hand over hers, she opened her eyes slowly. She didn't seem to be able to focus, blinking and squinting in his direction and he squeezed the hand in his.

"Kathryn, Tom's coming to take a look at your head injury, he'll give you something to help with the pain until we can get you back to Sickbay."

She nodded and then a slight look of confusion crossed her face. He understood. "Transporters are temporarily down, so we'll start making you feel better here."

She murmured something that he didn't catch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, instinctively he pulled her against him for support. She didn't resist, her head almost lolling against his shoulder and fighting his own sense of alarm as he realised that she was beginning to lose consciousness, he watched her anxiously as he waited for Tom to arrive.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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Tom Paris, his Medkit firmly in hand, almost bounded through the Turbolift door and onto the Bridge. From Ops, Harry shot him his best _about time too,_ look and unless he was very much mistaken, Tuvok's gaze briefly, but purposefully, inclined towards the ready room. The Doctor was performing a complex surgery on Ayala's completely shattered Tibia and Fibula and would be occupied for the next hour or so. Before leaving Sickbay, he had informed the EMH of his plan to track down the Captain and received something akin to his blessing, although Tom had heard him muttering darkly to himself about Captains making the worst patients. Still, he just might have a valid point there he thought, recalling her somewhat extreme reaction to his suggested course of treatment earlier.

Fixing a slight smile on his face, he crossed the short distance smartly and chimed the door. Chakotay's voice bid him to enter and after his eyes adjusted to the strangely dimmed light, he headed rapidly towards the pair. The Captain was part-sitting, part lying on the couch and the Commander was supporting her slackened form. Chakotay didn't say anything, but the concern in his eyes was unmistakable and quickly Tom sat down alongside them and pulled out his Tricorder. Before he'd even glanced at the readings, he knew that he'd been right to contact the Commander over the Comm. He'd known that the Captain had been less than honest with him from the moment she'd come around on board the Flyer, but there had been little he could do about it at the time, or in Sickbay when he had sensed that she hadn't been bluffing about sending him to the Brig.

He didn't like what he saw close up. She was barely conscious and didn't respond to his voice, aside from the obvious bruising and swelling to her face, his rapid scans revealed a cranial fracture with internal bleeding and swelling which was resulting in rising pressure on her brain. He knew that he'd have to stop the haemorrhage and reduce the swelling before he could heal the fracture, but it was a delicate procedure and he'd much rather see her on a Biobed in Sickbay.

He tapped his Comm Badge. "Paris to Torres."

"Torres here. If you're looking for _another_ eta on the Transporters Tom, the very best I can do is fifteen minutes, we're working flat out down here."

"Thanks B'Elanna, Paris out."

Stealing another glance at the Captain, he made his decision.

"We'll need to start treatment here, we haven't got time to wait for the Transporters. We'll need to lie her on her back with her head slightly raised. I'll give her something for the pain, but I can't risk anything too strong as I don't want to suppress her level of consciousness any further."

Chakotay nodded in agreement, while addressing the computer. "Return lights to previous level."

Turning, back towards to his patient, Tom began to speak gently.

"Captain, you're about to feel a hypospray against your neck, it will provide some relief from the pain and then we are going lay you down. It's important that I start treating your head injury. Do you understand me?"

_At the familiar sound on Tom's voice, Kathryn nodded, or tried to, but there was a strange foggy sensation crossing her brain and she was finding it increasingly hard to think at all. She knew on some level that she should try to stay awake, but she could already feel her resolve slipping. The intensity of the pain in her head was unlike anything she had ever felt before and she wanted badly to sleep, to give in and end the current torture._

Sensing the urgency in Paris' voice, Chakotay moved quickly to place his arms gently around Kathryn and turn her carefully so she was away from the corner of the couch. She groaned softly as he tried to support both her neck and head, as together he and Tom lay her flat. The pain the movement caused her was evident, etched across her features and she began to mumble incoherently and more alarmingly to move her head from side to side in a strange rocking motion. Silently he prayed to the Spirits, crouching on the floor and helping Tom rapidly pull the instruments from his Medkit.

Holding his Tricorder with one hand, Tom was concentrating intently on precisely aligning the Vascular Regenerator with the other, but with each movement she made, it became harder to stop the bleeding. Her level of consciousness was falling further and after gently imploring her not to move several times, he was running out of options.

_He could feel the sweat forming on his brow, why was it so damn hot in here anyway?_

In a last resort to try and reach her, he risked breaking protocol and taking a deep breath addressed her firmly. "Kathryn, it's Tom, listen to my voice. You were hurt in the Shuttle and I need to help you, but you have to stay still."

He gestured to Chakotay. "Please, hold her shoulders for me. And talk to her, try and get her attention."

Chakotay could see the beads of perspiration trickling from Tom's brow, down the sides of his face and onto the collar of his uniform. Cursing to himself as he remembered the warmth when he first entered the room, he reset the environmental controls, noticing a flicker of relief cross the Medic's face as he did so. He then concentrated on trying to keep Kathryn as still as possible, unsure if she could still hear him, she didn't seem to respond to anything that Tom said, even when he used her first name, a risky tactic and one which Chakotay could only surmise was testament to the gravity of their situation. He decided to talk to her anyway, keeping the emotion from his voice, he found himself telling her anything he could think of - old stories, gossip he had heard from the Crew and how she would start to feel better soon. All the time, watching Tom's fingers expertly program the various instruments, before running them back and forth mere millimetres from her skull.

Only the persistent, high pitched whine of the Tricorder punctuated the silence in the room.

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_Kathryn thought that she could hear voices somewhere in the distance, voices she recognised, but they faded as s__harp, ever increasing flashes of agony bounced around her skull like a bolts of lightening during a violent thunderstorm. All the while what felt like an old-fashioned vice, wound ever tighter by an invisible hand seemed to be squeezing her head with an almost unbearable pressure. It was dark and she was cold, but she had no desire to try to open her eyes, fearing the additional pain it would cause. She tried to remember what had happened or where she was, but nothing came to mind. __The pain filled fog continued to roll across her conscious brain and unable to hold out any longer, she gave in and let it take over, drifting gratefully towards a painless sense of nothing._

.

She had ceased moving, whether in response to his heartfelt pleas or not, he was undecided, but it was making Tom's task a great deal easier. He continued to work, keenly watching his patient and his instruments for any signs of improvement. The bleeding vessels repaired, he turned his attention to the swelling that was causing the majority of the problems and then finally the fracture. By the time the treatment was nearing completion, she had slipped into unconsciousness, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, hopefully in part, it was her body's protective mechanism.

Finally he allowed a small sigh of relief to escape as the Tricorder pronounced that her vital signs were stabilising, various readings indicating that his interventions had had their desired effect. He looked down at her face, her skin almost translucent, the capillaries and veins visible on her eyelids, her lips still tinged with blue and willed the faintest traces of colour to return to her cheeks, unaccustomed to seeing her so pale and so still. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her brow, realising just how much she meant to him - to them all. As he continued to watch, running an anxious hand through his hair, the first hints of pink returned first to her lips, followed by the apples of her cheeks as her heart and respiration rate returned to somewhere approaching normal. Relieved, he stretched his neck and allowed the tense muscles around his jaw to relax looked across towards Chakotay.

"I've managed to stop the bleeding and reduce the majority of the swelling, I've also started to heal the cranial fracture. As a result the pressure on her brain has started to fall, she's not totally out of the woods yet, but I should be able to wake her in a few minutes."

Chakotay gave himself permission to exhale. "Thanks Tom."

He heard his voice; it sounded slightly shaky and he was grateful to be able to gently let go of her hand, replace it lightly on her abdomen and get up from the floor. Once he was back at her desk, he took a long drink from the glass of water and tried to regain some equilibrium. Tom had replicated a blanket and was gently covering his patient. Once he had done that, he too ordered water from the replicator, drank the glass quickly and ran his hands through his hair again. His face growing more relaxed with each minute, he walked over to the desk and rested a hip casually against it.

"I think we treated her just in time, any longer and I'd be facing the wrath of the Doctor as well as my First Officer."

He smiled as he said this and Chakotay found that he could smile in return. They stood by the desk and looked out of the Viewport in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and both grateful that Voyager wasn't going to be without her Captain permanently. A low moan from the couch made them both start and Tom was instantly knelt back at her side.

"Captain, can you hear me?"

She didn't respond at first, but then her eyelashes fluttered and slowly her eyes opened. Blinking against the harsh light, she slowly brought her hand up to her forehead and grazed her temple. When she spoke, it was a whisper.

"Mmm... Tom?"

From his crouched position, Tom smiled and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"I'm here. So is Chakotay. How are you feeling?"

She turned her head a degree or so to look at him, her cornflower blue eyes holding just a hint of their former sparkle and gave him a small, exhausted smile.

"You weren't joking about that painkiller, my head is still killing me."

A smile spread across Tom's face and he squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Welcome back Captain, it's good to hear your voice."

.

After thirty minutes had passed, Tom was apparently satisfied enough with Kathryn's progress to suggest that Chakotay carefully assist her into a semi-sitting position. He figured that she might be less uncomfortable with the Commander's touch, and that he had been familiar enough using her first name earlier, whether she remembered or not. He watched as Chakotay gently placed his arm under her shoulders and slowly eased her forward until her head came to rest against the centre of his chest. One arm resting on her back, he paused allowing her to acclimatise to being upright and then he helped her to turn slowly so that she was sat with her back against the couch. His eyes never leaving her face, he raised his eyebrows and she answered with a small nod, running her hands through her hair and wiping her eyes. Tom busied himself re-packing his Medkit as their hands clasped together in a gesture of familiar, comfortable intimacy. When he dared look in their direction again, Kathryn's eyes sought his and when she spoke, her voice was still slightly husky.

"Tom, aren't you off duty?"

He smiled knowingly as he walked to sit beside her on the couch, his Tricorder still at hand.

"Mmm, technically, but I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're okay Captain. You'll feel concussed and there's still the small matter of a skull fracture that needs further healing. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist that you head straight..."

She interrupted him, lifting her hand shakily into a dismissive gesture at the same time somehow managing to look just a little contrite.

"I know, it's straight back to the Doctor. You won't get any argument from me, not this time."

At this, Tom and Chakotay's eyebrows both lifted in surprise and Tom saw that Chakotay was struggling to keep a straight face. He looked away, smiling and programmed a hypospray, Kathryn Janeway as good as admitting that she had been wrong, he should have run a betting pool on that one. He wondered if the Doctor would make her pay for ignoring his advice. As fun as that might be to watch, he hoped not; she'd been through enough today as it was. Thinking of payback reminded him that he was going to be late for dinner with B'Elanna if he didn't move fast. He took one last set of Tricorder readings, administered the hypospray and satisfied that she was stable, left detailed instructions.

"You'll need to scan her every five minutes for the next fifteen, she's to stay on the couch _and rest_."

The now subsiding adrenaline still having an emboldening effect, he found himself shooting a pointed look in the Captain's direction as he said this, and was rewarded with a weary eye roll, which he interpreted as agreement. He held up the Tricorder display and gestured to the screen for Chakotay to see.

"If any of the readings here or here change at all, or if she feels worse in any way, contact the Doc."

Next he passed over the pre-programmed hypospray. "I'll leave this for dizziness and nausea if necessary. Otherwise, you're expected in Sickbay inside twenty minutes."

Chakotay nodded. "Got it Tom and don't worry I'll beam her there myself at the first sign of trouble."

He smiled. "And I'll tell B'Elanna you both send your regards."

With a final, gentle smile at Kathryn, he stood and headed towards the door, but her voice stopped him in his tracks. "Thanks for everything Tom."

She smiled a weakened version of her best Janeway smile at him and despite how fragile she still looked, he was reminded once again why he and the rest of the Crew would follow her to the end of the Galaxy and back if she asked them to.

"It was nothing for a dashing Medic like me. Take it easy Captain" and flashing her his best smile in return, he exited onto the Bridge.

.

As the door closed behind Tom, Chakotay turned to Kathryn. "Anything I can get for you?"

She started to shake her head and immediately stopped, the movement causing her to wince; Instinctively, she brought her hand up to massage the side of her head.

"No thanks."

He risked resting his arm around her lightly and was surprised when she leant her head back against his bicep and he felt her shoulders relax a little. Her voice sat just above a whisper. "Thank you for coming to find me Chakotay."

He allowed himself to smile a little. "I wouldn't have been a very good First Officer if I hadn't."

She sighed, her voice gaining strength. "I wasn't a very well behaved Captain today. You helped save me from myself I think."

He was silent for a moment. "You know Kathryn, the Crew realises you're human, you can let your guard down every now and again. No-one will think any less of you."

She nodded gingerly this time as she pondered this statement. "In fact," he hesitated before continuing, "...I think it does the Crew good to know that you're not invincible, it reminds us mere mortals that you're one of us."

She was silent for a long time and concerned that she was relapsing, he turned to better look at her before picking up the Tricorder with his free hand and beginning to scan. Still slightly groggy, she waved his concern away. "I was just thinking."

"Fair enough. But it's about time anyway."

Satisfied that the readings were as they should be, he continued to study her. She was still pale he thought and looked a little like she was struggling to focus, blinking at objects in her eye line. He remembered Tom's instructions.

"Do you want the meds Paris left?"

She swallowed. "Yes please, I don't think we'll make it to Sickbay otherwise."

As soon as the hypospray left her neck, Kathryn immediately began to feel better. It's purely psychological, she told herself, the drugs don't work that fast, but it appeared that they did. Slowly, the objects in her ready room returned to their normal size and stopped tilting and floating strangely. Even the hum of the warp engines became music to her ears again and the floor felt stable underfoot. She lifted her head from Chakotay's shoulder, straightened up and looked around the room, the urge to be sick passing. Her head still felt like there was a small axe embedded in it, but it was bearable and if she took things slowly, she was sure she could stand and walk. As Chakotay finished yet another scan, she motioned for him to help her up. Hesitant at first, he paused before gently taking both of her hands in his. As soon as she was standing, he released one of her hands and slid his arm around her waist. His support was welcome, her legs felt a little like jelly, but nothing span and the dull throbbing pain in her temple settled.

Taking a few deep breaths, she straightened her uniform and smoothing her hair, looked at the door.

"Ready to beam out Captain?"

"No, actually I think we'll walk. That is as long as you don't mind me leaning on you."

Chakotay's eyes widened. The look on his face confirming that she'd caught him off guard and for a second Kathryn enjoyed the realisation that she could still surprise him, he recovered his composure quickly flashing her a muted version of his dimpled grin.

"I'll always be here for you to lean on. But can I ask why you're choosing the corridors over the transporter?"

As they started slowly towards the Bridge, his arm now linked through hers, she spoke with a smile.

"Oh, something someone said about me not being invincible, perhaps I'm ready to show the Crew that I'm human after all. Plus, I've got to work up an appetite for all that humble pie the Doctor is going to make me eat."


End file.
